This chapter has a big TW for implied child abuse. It's not graphic and could be interpreted differently, but just be warned. 

This also includes about as much explaining of the Powers That Be as I'm going to do. Feel free to draw your own conclusions. 

Myungsoo doesn't come to uni on Thursday. Dongwoo's not surprised.

Most of his day is dedicated to practising for the dance school's show in the noisy theatre. With everything that's been going on, he hasn't been paying enough attention to his role. The date is approaching so quickly. That Sunday they'll all take the stage in front of a couple of hundred spectators and they all need to give their best.

Throwing himself into practice works well to take his mind away from his troubles. A little too well. It's like that with the memories of the other place. It all feels obscure and unreal, as if his brain had judged the experience as 'Obviously Not True; No Point Storing'. He thought the memories to do with Myungsoo wouldn't be like that anymore. Dongwoo's sure Sem's 'Powers That Be' have everything to do with this. However, he can't think straight to figure out anything to do with that sureness.

Sometimes though - Sometimes the spiders fill his head and certain images become all too clear. He's so afraid and worried. He's sure Myungsoo's in trouble. But what can he do? The boy's nowhere to be found. He's not answering his phone and Dongwoo doesn't really know where he lives (bar what the inside of his bedroom looks like). Dongwoo's not at work until Tuesday, so it's not as though he can swing on to his pole, perform his 'Magnum' and hope to be transported.

"You could."

Dongwoo looks up with a start. A woman is standing a few metres away, looking up at him on the stage. She's tall and slim with long, neatly combed, auburn hair. She's wearing a pinstriped trouser suit and an impish expression. No one else in the bustling theatre seems to have noticed her.

"I could what?" Dongwoo asks, drawing back on himself defensively. The memories of the other place are clear in his mind for once.

"See him. The streets are lined with poles."

Dongwoo's flabbergasted.

"Oh gosh, was I talking out loud?"

"No," she answers simply, pleasant smile never faltering.

Without realising it, Dongwoo has drawn closer to the woman. He sits cross-legged on the edge of the stage, eyes never leaving her. He opens his mouth, not knowing what to say, and the words,

"Are you Erin?" come tumbling out.

She tucks back her bangs and titters in faux-bashfulness.

"Guilty as charged. Hyunah was right to recommend you. We're all very proud of you, Dongwoo-sshi."

Dongwoo sits in shell-shocked silence. Now that he's meeting her, he doesn't know what to say.

"Why was Sem-noona sad when talking about you?"

Her smile turns a little warmer, a little softer.

"That's from another time. Is that really what you want to ask?"

"No," Dongwoo shakes his head and tries to force his thoughts into order, "Is he in danger?"

"Yes. You'll see him tonight. Don't worry. First, we'll need you to assist Kyungri-sshi with a certain matter."

The image of Kyungri in her gold bikini coming to finish off those human traffickers flashes into his mind. That was the first night he teleported to Myungsoo's home. The first night he heard that woman scratching at his bedroom door.

The sounds and activity of the theatre draw Dongwoo out of his thoughts. He notices with shock that Erin is gone. Casting his eyes around, he spots her strolling out one of the doors. People step aside for her without ever glancing in her direction.

It's a freezing night, their breaths making little clouds in the air. For some reason, everyone seems content to hang out outside. Dongwoo wonders why that is - or is it only because his friends are strange?

There's Sunggyu, who's using the cold as an excuse to cuddle up to Dongwoo's side. (Dongwoo accepts - nay, encourages the cuddling and may have copped a good feel of Sunggyu's arse earlier). Jonghyun is squatting on one of the courtyard's stone benches, nursing a can of beer. The three of them are chuckling at Kibum and Woohyun. The latter's been corralled by his best friend into teaching him a few pole moves. Despite Woohyun's objections that cold lamp-posts were absolutely not right for performing on, he has now got Kibum able to execute a not awful lean back. Dongwoo cackles at a comment Jonghyun makes regarding Kibum's talents. Club workers aside, Jonghyun and Kibum are the only ones who know and accept his and Woohyun's occupation.

Dongwoo feels good. He feels free. He can't quite say why they're all outside in the courtyard when it's late January, instead of in someone's flat or in a bar or anywhere really. But it feels good and relaxed and Sunggyu's warm and comfortable. So what in the world could possibly be wrong?

An itching feeling snatches at Dongwoo's insides. He gets up - despite Sunggyu's whiny protestations - and starts to play with a lamp-post. It is possible to dance on it, but probably not a good idea to. The thing's frozen. His fingers hurt and he's liable to fall off and injure himself. It would be stupid to try that move now. However, he's remembering at last, remembering clearly. A young woman with a mischievous smile and flawless appearance. A boy unable to cry, clutching to him like a lifeline. Scritching scratching at the door.

Get height

and twist

and 

Kyungri throws him what appears to be a large wooden broom handle.

"You'll need a weapon!" she yells and rams her fist into a burly man's nose. Before Dongwoo can respond at all, he has cause to smash the broom handle into an attacker's groin.

They're at a docks, Dongwoo surmises, giant trawlers and metal containers as far as the eye can see. The hoard is intense, many times anything he's experienced yet. Attackers come from every corner. He dashes around helter skelter, losing himself in the fight. None of the attackers are especially strong - not compared his Kyungri's and his enhanced abilities. The trouble is that there's so many of them. At one point, someone leaps onto Dongwoo's back and covers his eyes, attempting to squeeze his eyeballs. Dongwoo thrashes about. He receives a spray of lightning punches to his gut, winding him and bruising his insides. Disorientated, he kicks out blindly. The sound of bones crunching reaches his ears. By the time he's managed to shake off the attacker on his back, he's dizzy, confused and covered with blood (some of which his own) and gristle. He runs on. There are at least a hundred more to fight.

"We fight for something good, right? Because of The Powers That Be," Kyungri begins, chest rising and falling heavily. Her Union Jack bikini is ripped and blood-stained. She has a long gash down one thigh. Dongwoo's condition isn't any better. There's one attacker left, a square, burly man - a doppelganger for one of the bouncers from that night at the human traffickers'. He stands, impassive, arms crossed, whilst Dongwoo and Kyungri stalk towards him.

"Well, that evil we're fighting, it's got its own Power That Is. Fortunately, that Power is nothing but a limp-wristed, mother-ing, weak little sissy-boy in comparison," Kyungri continues, eyes never leaving the stone faced man.

He scoffs.

"This was just a test, . Don't get cocky."

All of a sudden, he makes a pose - twirling his thick arms, legs bent - that very much reminds Dongwoo of an old Kamen Rider series. In a flash, the man is gone.

Kyungri spits. She turns to Dongwoo.

"I wanted to explain this to you better before you had to just jump right in. Sorry, Oppa."

"That's OK," he replies. They simultaneously sprint for their poles. Dongwoo wonders if Kyungri is feeling the same wave of nausea he is, "Maybe they thought it better this way."

The woman might have fallen asleep. Dongwoo forcibly threw her into the landing, managing to control himself better this time. He's sitting on the floor, blocking the door with his body. At first he heard sounds, whimpering and shuffling, on the other side. Now it's all silence. She must be asleep, Dongwoo supposes, although the Powers haven't made him teleport yet...

Myungsoo tramps over and drops by Dongwoo's side. It's been a while since Dongwoo arrived. Myungsoo needed time. Dongwoo understands, so, without knowing what else to do, he's simply stayed, quietly listening and wondering.

"Your pole's different," Myungsoo mentions, nodding towards the lamp post in the middle of his room and disappearing through the ceiling.

"Oh. Yeah, it is. Someone told me I should try this."

"You're not dressed up. You really weren't working," Myungsoo adds, eyeing Dongwoo's jeans and anorak.

"I think I'm more dressed up than when I'm working," Dongwoo responds, a tear in his shiny anorak self-consciously.

Myungsoo doesn't reply. He takes hold of Dongwoo's hands and places them around his shoulders. Wordlessly, he snuggles into Dongwoo's arms. Dongwoo waits until Myungsoo's settled before hugging him back. Squeezing him tight and breathing in the scent of his hair. He feels dizzy from the soft beat of Myungsoo's heart against his chest. Minutes pass before Myungsoo breaks the peace between them.

"It's my fault," he mumbles.

"It's not," Dongwoo mutters, noticing at last how heavy his eyes have grown.

"It is. I lost the key. It's my fault."

"It's not."

"She's been worse lately and I go and do something stupid like that. What's wrong with me?"

"There's not a single thing wrong with you."

A minute gasp and silence reigns again. Myungsoo's slowly melting into Dongwoo's arms. He fidgets with the older boy's jacket, tugging at the material and playing with the zip.

"She calls me his name. Everyone says I take after him," he whispers so quietly Dongwoo can barely hear, "Her meds make her too tired to work. It's not her fault."

The spiders are scuttling into Dongwoo's guts again. His face crumples. He takes a deep breath and makes Myungsoo look at him.

"Please come to school tomorrow."

"Do you have to leave?"

"I'm sorry. Please come. Please find me."

Myungsoo nods, crawling out of Dongwoo's lap.

The next thing Dongwoo hears is Woohyun's laughter.

"Show off!" he yells good-naturedly. The others laugh and clap along as Dongwoo finishes his routine, wobbly but with unmistakeable finesse. He stands in a daze, taking in his surroundings. The near empty courtyard, his friends smiles in the glow of the lamp posts, the pack of beer on the bench. The memories are turning to mist and cobwebs. Dongwoo hates it. He bursts into tears. Sunggyu's arms are around him in a second.

"What happened?"

"How much did he drink?"

"Why's his eye bruised?"

"Is he having problems with that guy he likes?"